


Geralt and the Minotaur pt 1.5

by thecomfortofoldstorries



Series: Geralt and the Minotaur [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: ?????, Banter, F/M, Training, honestly idk, it's pure goof okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecomfortofoldstorries/pseuds/thecomfortofoldstorries
Summary: Lambert takes advantage of Geralt's popularity during training.
Relationships: Lambert (The Witcher)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Geralt and the Minotaur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119917
Kudos: 12





	Geralt and the Minotaur pt 1.5

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all this is pure self-indulgence bc this au lived in my head too long lmao

In the spirit of preparation, Eskel and Lambert pushed Geralt to the breaking point. On top of the already grueling drills and vicious sparring, they added athletic training like he was going off to the Isthmian Games. 

As word spread of his outburst in the senate, spectators began gathering to watch him train in the ever-increasing heat. Some would cheer when he got the upper hand on Eskel, or boo when he missed a step and almost lost his footing, but most were there out of morbid curiosity. Most of the older folk anyway. 

Geralt had taken to training with his chiton unclasped at the shoulder and as soon as they heard, there were a few more young ladies, and men, showing up to encourage him in his heroic efforts. Every so often he could hear whispers of “I’ve never seen such squeezable pecs.” or “I bet he could kill me with those thighs alone” or Lambert’s favorite “There’s no way he’s a virgin”. The last one almost made him drop his sword the first time he’d heard it. Eskel tried to keep him focused, reminding him there were always distractions in battle, but Lambert loved it. 

“Keep your head on pretty boy, I know the blacksmith’s daughter is hot but that’s no excuse to slip up,” he sent a wink over Geralt’s shoulder, presumably at the girl in question.

If Geralt weren’t already red from the heat and exertion he would have blushed, instead, he stepped inside Lambert’s reach, locked the hilts of their swords, and slammed him to the ground with one hand on his breastplate. 

“You were saying?" 

Lambert scowled, "Push-ups. Fifty." 

Geralt hauled him up, "I already did strength with Eskel." 

"I know,” Lambert grinned, “Now you get to do more. You’ll be facing the product of a pissed off god’s revenge, you need all the strength you can get." 

Geralt rolled his eyes and dropped to the ground, gritting his teeth as Lambert began leading the small group of onlookers in counting out his reps. 

When he was finished he stood to glare at his trainer but was smacked in the chest with a large sandbag. 

"Lunge, squat, lunge. Go." 

Geralt groaned but started anyway, "How many?" 

"Until the girl in the front row swoons. If you trained naked like a true athlete you’d be done by now." 

"Fuck off,” Geralt was panting, his muscles burning and balance wavering. He glanced over his shoulder anyway, “Which one?" 

"No idea,” Lambert laughed, “but one winked back at me. Drop the sandbag and let me win." 

Geralt finished out his set, "Let you win?”

Lambert handed him his sword and leaned in, “You may be pure for sacrifice but I’m not, and I’d like to get laid." 


End file.
